Page 28 of Oh No, I Shot A Spaceship And Kissed An Alien Cyberchef

I huff. I’m sick of waiting around, waiting for others to solve my problems. I did that in the past too, when my ex got worse and worse. I was always too scared to stand up for myself back then. I know what it’s like to be abandoned and have no one. I refuse to let Nelan suffer the same fate.

I climb up on top of the kitchen countertop. Shoes on my clean counters! I’m going to have to scrub. I could scream from how frustrated, how pent up I am right now.But hey, at least I’m getting my cardio in for the day. Who needs a Stairmaster when you have kitchen drama?

“We all know what you’re about to say, Rist,” I say, cutting to the chase. “Sutek’s an assassin. Zoe’s sweet but has a salty, violent side if let loose. And Taruk’s used to working with some pretty crazy animals, which rumors may or may not prove to be dragons.”

“Wait, dragons? Are you for real?” Elana gasps. “Seriously, I missed out on a pet yum-yum and now you’re telling me dragons exist?! Can I have one? I want one!”

“Guys, focus!” I shout. “And no, Elana, you’ll set fire to the hotel.”

Rist looks utterly taken aback. He’s gazing up at me with wide eyes, mouth hanging open.

“You know, for a prince we’d expect you to have better manners. You’ll catch flies if you’re not careful,” Charlotte says, leaning over and pushing his lower jaw closed.

“It’s okay,” I reassure Rist. “Us girls gossip. Seriously, it’s like the thing us human women are best at. And we know all about your pasts, about how you led a coup against your brother and failed, and you had to leave the planet and come here.”

Everyone’s nodding along. It’s really common knowledge at this point. I mean, I think only Rist has been keeping quiet about it all, to be honest. Probably some emotional hangups or something. Or maybe he’s just shy about his failed political career. Not everyone can be a successful revolutionary, after all.

“That’s not quite right...” Rist replies. “We didn’t try to lead a coup.”

“Oh, right,” I reply. I was on a bit of a roll, and him correcting me like this is sort of throwing myvibe out of whack. “Whatever you want to call it, we understand. We still love you.”

Rist laughs, looking around at our found family with a mixture of relief and pleasure.

“Thanks, I guess? But I didn’t lead a coup. As you’ve likely noticed, most Volscians become fighters. Our species is kind of known for it. You’re either a warrior in the army or a mercenary,” Rist explains. “We value strength above all. And so, when my father died, it came down to which of his two sons would become the next king. As tradition dictates, our forces battled it out... and I lost. I lost the battles, the war, and many good friends.”

There’s a silence in the room, no one wanting to speak. Rist hangs his head, like he indeed lost something valuable to him that day. I guess he did. His friends died. People he loved.

“As a further insult,” Rist continues, “Rather than kill myself and my closest allies with honor, my brother banished us. We left Latium territory for Galactic Federation space. We were taken in like refugees.”

His lips curl in derision, just for a moment. Not for one moment do I think he’s looking down on us. No, this guy’s got some serious self-hate going on, if I’m not mistaken. He needs a therapist. But then again, who doesn’t?

“Some of us got away clean, like Sutek and me. Taruk... well, he was captured and... yeah...” Rist says. “Plenty more of my men disappeared. Volan and Jen are out there searching for any traces of them as we speak. Better to come here and have some hope of a life, than to be hunted down by your own people for simply being weak.”

“Your people hunted you down?!” Someone gasps.

Rist shrugs. “We value strength. Who wouldn’t want toprove themselves against the once great and mighty prince and his elite forces?”

“Oh, Rist...” I say, sitting on the counter and awkwardly wiggling off of it. I’ve never been one of those athletic girls to jump off things this high - that’s just begging for a broken ankle.

“I don’t need your pity, Laura,” Rist says.

“It’s not pity,” I tell him sharply. “Being strong isn’t about how big your muscles are.”

Rist raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with an expression of someone talking to a child. He probably thinks I’ve gone insane. Maybe I have.

“True strength is about doing the right thing in the right moment. Even when all hope is lost. You might have lost that battle, but not the war. You came here in the hopes to rebuild a new life. You never stopped searching for your missing friends. You took us in when we needed a home. These are not the actions of someone who is weak.”

Why do I sound like I’m telling him to go back to war? I wanted to avoid that, didn’t I? I want that quiet life where my next concern is having enough eggs for pancakes and whether I have to really whack the NutriSynth to make me a cup of not-coffee.

“This is all great and all,” Charlotte says. “But it doesn’t explain why Nelan’s arrested right now. Or what we are going to do about it.”

Oh, right. You know... that should be my biggest concern right now. Not whether or not we go off and start a war. Priorities.

“My father died... because of poisoning,” Rist explains. “Its source was tracked back to the kitchens, to Nelan. Given his history…”

I recoil. The thought of Nelan poisoning someone...He’s grumpy, but he’s not a killer... is he? I mean, sure, his food could be described as “killer” sometimes, but I always thought that was just a figure of speech.

“He didn’t do it,” I state fiercely. I refuse to believe it. Beneath the grumpy attitude, he’s a teddy bear. He’s sweet and goes out of his way to make me and others happy. He’s never hurt me, and I refuse to believe he’s hurt someone else.

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